


Like morning dew

by SpaceMalarkey



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Despair, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Rebirth, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:12:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceMalarkey/pseuds/SpaceMalarkey
Summary: Curse the gods. Curse them for doing this to him. He feels his life slipping away, everything growing hazy. There is a strange mist covering everything in his vision.Then he hears a soft sound. Otherworldly footsteps in the grass. Impossibly light and heavy at the same time. A powerful aura kneeling next to his fallen form.Then, he feels warmth. A feathery light touch on his cheeks.





	1. The Hero of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Linked Universe AU is created by jojo56830 (linkeduniverse.tumblr.com)

The Hero of Time is killed, forgotten and lost. One desperate act to try and save his childhood home from the hordes of monsters. He is bleeding, warmth slipping from his body. His eye is hurting, he can’t feel his left arm. He thinks of the kokiri and hopes they will run. He couldn’t stop the hordes alone. He couldn’t warn them. They would never know of his sacrifice, never know how badly he fought for them, how he died for them.  
No one will ever know the extent of his deeds, the pain he endured all alone, the time he was robbed of. The home that was stolen from him. He had given everything for them.  
All his life, for nothing.

Curse the gods. Curse them for doing this to him. He feels his life slipping away, everything growing hazy. There is a strange mist covering everything in his vision.    
Then he hears a soft sound. Otherworldly footsteps in the grass. Impossibly light and heavy at the same time. A powerful aura kneeling next to his fallen form.  
Then, he feels warmth. A feathery light touch on his cheeks.

"Oh, Time" a soft whisper. "What has happened to you?"

Time remembers that voice.  
Bright piercing blue eyes. A wild grin. A spirit so strong despite everything. Warm kindness radiating from his very being.  The Hero of Time opens his eye to look at him.  
Wild.

He doesnt look like he remembers. He is wilder now. Powerful, divine. The very essence of nature flows from him. The mist moves around the wild child, making him glow slightly. His eyes are softened, looking at Time with a strange sadness. A sadness that doesn’t fit his serene face. It makes the shimmering scars on his face look like tears.  
"Time? What led you to this fate?"  
  
_You have met with a terrible fate, haven't you?_

He blinks and finds himself lighter than before. Death. The realisation is slow, but it’s not as crushing as Time thought it would be at first. The complete abandonment of the gods, however, burns with such fury.  
"I.." he tries, but his throat tightens. His eyes start watering and his entire soul screams of sorrow and anger, of despair and guilt.

"I can't...I... I’m lost. I’m alone. The gods have abandoned me," he croaks. He can’t bear to look at Wild, not like this. The shame burns and twists in the core of his very soul.  
He has never felt such hopelessness, never thought his life would end and bring him to a place even worse. He was supposed to be Wild’s elder, a wise and kind constant. He has failed in this too. He has failed so much. Everything has failed him.  
He is so confused. He doesn’t understand how Wild is here, he doesn’t understand how he could remember him, or how he can remember bringing the boy to the ranch.  
The feelings are overwhelming. It feels like his form is shifting, twisting and being pulled apart. There is a storm inside him.

Then, the storm stills just as quickly as it appeared. He can feel Wild leaning over him. He can feel lips on his forehead, and the sensation of being put back together.  
Time feels whole again, even though the storm is looming near. He opens his eye again, gazing up at Wild with awe.  
This is a God, Time realizes. An actual god, gracing him with all his attention and love. Wild as his namesake, powerful yet humble.

The god of the wild smiles, full of love.  
“This god hasn’t abandoned you”.  Warmth in his chest, sparks of new life already blooming.   
“He never will”.

 

* * *

 

Time is a cycle, never ending and never beginning. A constant that waits for nothing.  
Twilight covers the land, like it has before. It spreads swiftly, blinding the light. There are cries carrying on the wind.  
Fear and despair.  
Anger and confusion.  
A howl.  
The golden wolf stands waiting for the boy he knows will come. The way he always will.  
The young hero approaches him cautiously. Slowly.  
The wolf leaps, taking the hero to his realm of existence. His shape is different here. Bigger, more imposing. Clad in the armor he died in.  
The boy swings his sword at him clumsily. Weakly. He pushes him back with ease, watching as the boy falls to the ground.

  
_“A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage.”_


	2. The Hero of Legend

The child is born in the eye of a storm. Luck, some would say. Fortunate, others would whisper. Terrible, reality would scream.  
Filled with death.  
Lonely and cold.

The small child had been left alone on the small raft, secured tightly in a bundle of cloth. Mother had fallen off the side of the wooden logs, meeting the raging waves in a crushing embrace. Her warm colors faded in the dark.  
Father had tried so hard. Tried to get them to safety, to dry land. He had steered them as best he could, but it was a losing battle.  
His strength could never rival that of the sea.  
It grabbed him too, stole him from the safety of the raft and into the cold and dark depths.

There was just the child left. Small and weak, cries deafened by thunder and lightning. Waves rocking him back and forth. Everything was loud and horrifying.  
Until it wasn’t.  
A gentle hand stilled the rocking, warm and inviting.  
The baby was lifted against a rumbling chest, and the storms stilled. The cries stilled with the storm, turning into a soft, content gurgle.  
“You had a rough start of life this time, little one.” A gentle and kind voice filled the air.

The feeling of warm skin, power flowing between them.  
“You will find love, my dear friend,” the summer song continued. “I will make sure of it”.

 

* * *

 

The boy wakes to a voice begging him for help. Another voice, his uncle, telling him not to leave the house.  
He does anyway. The voice sounds so desperate. Afraid. Alone.   
He knows what that feels like. He has to help.   
There is a storm outside.   
It’s nostalgic, in a way. He feels comfort in the rain, the thunder and lightning.

He remembers a calm and kind voice, feeling at ease in the rocking waves.  
 _“You will be a legend.”_


	3. The Hero of Warriors

There is the sound of blood dripping. The sound of mother whimpering and begging. The sound of a knife, ignoring her pleas. A slash, carving a deep valley in her very soul.  
Silence.  
There is only him now, him and the bandit. A filthy greedy man, taking whatever he wants and killing anyone in his sights. For fun.  
He has to get away, he has to fight. But he is just a little boy. He can’t really do much yet. He isn’t as strong as papa, and papa isn’t here now. He is away, signing up to become a soldier.  
Why couldn’t papa stay just one day longer?

The boy shivers and grabs the closest thing he can find. A pot lid. The bandit chuckles wildly before pointing the knife at him. He advances towards the boy, raising his bloodied knife high in the air.

He will never be as strong as his papa. He will never see mama again.  
He will die here. Killed, by some lowlife.  
He closes his eyes and prays. Prays for the end to come swiftly.

He feels a splatter, warm blood spilling.  
But he feels no pain.  
The sound of the bandit gurgling, and chocking reaches his ears and he looks up in shock. There is a long, thin sword sticking out of the chest of the killer. He twitches pathetically and grips at the blade, trying to yank it out.

A new sound reaches his ears. A soft voice filled with rage.  
"You shouldn't underestimate people who are smaller than you".  
The sword is quickly removed from the body, and the bandit falls over, twitching a few times more before it stills. The boy looks up in shock from behind the pot lid. The man in front of him is ethereal. Long pale hair and antlers on his head. His eyes glow in the dim light.

He smiles at the boy, bending down to be eye to eye with him. There is a kindness that surrounds his very being, filling the room and driving out the stench of the evil which has been done. "I heard you calling out, little one" he says, voice like spring.

The boy moves, dives for the man. He is scared, and this man seems to be the only salvation in a world of death. He stumbles over the dead bodies and hugs the otherworldly being close. He can feel arms circling him and rubbing the back of his head. Like his papa used to do. Safe. Warm.  
"Now, my little Warrior" the divine hums. "Let me show you a trick with that pot lid."

 

* * *

 

The trainee sprints across the fields. He has to help. He will help.  
He won’t fail anyone. He will make sure the future of Hyrule is secure.  
Even if he has to kill thousands of monsters and die by the sword in order to do so.  
A big monster is flying at him and he grabs his shield, remembering a lesson from so long ago. He swings it, successfully throwing the monster off him, and stabs it until its dead.  
The warrior swears he will make the god proud. The one who guided him so long ago.

He doesn’t see the blue eyes following him, watching him with pride.  


End file.
